


white peony

by peppermintteababy



Category: K-pop, 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: Adorable Park Jimin (BTS), Cuddling, Cute Min Yoongi | Suga, Friendship, Gen, Literal Sleeping Together, clean, just some adorable yoonmin, sleeping, yoonmin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-31
Updated: 2019-12-31
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:41:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22047310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peppermintteababy/pseuds/peppermintteababy
Summary: Min Yoongi is visited by Park Jimin late at night.
Relationships: Min Yoongi | Suga/Park Jimin
Kudos: 36





	white peony

**Author's Note:**

> hello there~ I wrote this fic quite a long time ago and posted it on ARMY Amino. thought I would share it here as well. haven't edited it at all since last year so I apologise if there are errors. enjoy the fluff!

Yoongi throws his pen across the room, frustration leaping from his chest in the form of a snarl.  
  
“I can’t get it! I don’t understand at all!”  
  
His breathing is heavy, and his eyes feel so tired; the ache in his chest from too many hours of working through this block is wearing on him. If he were to look in the mirror now, he wouldn’t be surprised to see smoke venting from his ears and large crinkles formed permanently over his brows. The fans wouldn’t like that. He corrects his expression, back to neutral and focused, back to perfect. Yet, his breathing still feels like a cold blade scraping the inside of his chest. His earbuds dangle from where they're looped around the top of his ears, having fallen out in his brief lash of anger.  
  
A gentle knock on the studio door causes his heart to skip a beat. He drops his head into his hands before scooping the pen off the floor from where it rolled closer to him after it ricocheted off the wall.  
  
“Yoongi-hyung, can I come in?”  
  
It’s Jimin. Yoongi sighs and leans back in his chair, allowing the mesh back to finally cushion the stiffness that had set in since this morning. Since the earliest hours when inspiration struck, he’d been leaning over his notebook and computer, hardly moving to stretch or rest. He glances at the clock – _11:17pm_.  
  
“Yes, Jimin.” He murmurs, closing his eyes briefly and listening as the door pops open quietly, Jimin shuffles in, and lets the door swing slowly closed behind him.  
  
“I brought tea.”  
  
Jimin smile is ever so soft. On first glance, one might say it was a shy smile, close-lipped and just barely peeping into a curve. But his eyes are shining and searching, honestly curious and caring. This is Jimin's _“are you okay?”_ smile, the most disarming, heart-melting one of them all. Yoongi pauses, hints of his previous frustration slipping away like a blanket pulled at the corner, then turns back to his computer.  
  
“Jimin, you know I don't drink tea.”

Jimin hums behind him, his tone just so to imply disbelief. Yoongi catches his reflection in the computer screen, eyebrows slightly raised and his smile seeming to grow more teasing each second. He can already feel his cheeks flushing lightly.

“Nevermind. Thanks.”

Yoongi twirled the pen between his fore and middle fingers, breathing through his mouth, willing the weariness to drain away as the frustration had momentarily when Jimin walked in. He shouldn't let this get the better of him. He'd been able to push through exhaustion so many times before to devote his time to his music. Why now does it choose to pull at his strength the strongest?

He jots down a few words, some that never fail to inspire his creative senses once they grace the page. But now they only glare back up at him, the black ink like a hole in the page and his decent handwriting drooping into smears as he brushes his hand over them. Yoongi aches to feel the rush of euphoria that comes from the words spilling forth from his fingers like a silver fountain.

“It’s lemon and ginger white peony tea. I read it’s calming and good for exhaustion.”

Yoongi starts, the pen slipping from his fingertips and plopping onto the page. “What?” why had it fallen? He is never this clumsy. 

“It's on your right.”

He looks, and there it is - the floral-patterned paper cup of tea he hadn't noticed Jimin set down, steaming warmly and, now that he truly pays attention, wafting a certain delicate scent into the room. His muscles involuntarily relax from their tense positions and he reaches for the cup, tenderly grasping it around the upper edge with his slender fingers. Yoongi sips it, eyeing Jimin's expression through the computer’s reflection as he does. The moment the soft flavour touches his lips, slips between his teeth, caressing his tongue as it flows down his throat, he hums. Lemon and ginger, with a delicate touch of tender, bitter tones warm his insides on their way down, leaving the sweetest lingering taste in his mouth.

The cup returns to the table and Yoongi turns to meet Jimin again. “It’s good.”

Jimin smiles again, his eyes crinkling near closed and his head tilting just a bit. He leans against the wall to his right, “Are you going to sleep soon?”

Yoongi clears his throat. He blinks his eyes a bit and checks the clock. “Not sure.” Glancing back at the half-filled page of text and several other scattered loose-leaf pages in the corner of his desk, he picks up his pen and absentmindedly doodles. “I haven’t finished this yet.”

“You’re exhausted, hyung.”

“I’m fine.”

“Hyung.”

Jimin isn’t smiling anymore. His eyes are still soft, but his expression is clouded, stern; although his mood has shifted, Jimin's posture is still yet relaxed and open - ankles loosely crossed and hands tucked into his pockets. He purses his lips into a slight pout, tilting his head to rest against the wall.

“I won’t sleep until you go to sleep then.” Jimin says, blinking his eyes slowly. He rolls his shoulders back and settles into his position, his lips drawing into a firm line.

“Jimin.” Yoongi huffs. “That won’t work on me.”

Jimin doesn’t answer, only stares back, raising his eyebrows, challenging him to protest further. His light bangs fall into his eyes briefly. He blows them back into place.

Yoongi chuckles. He rotates his chair back to face his desk and begins to write, taking sips of the tea Jimin brought every few moments. The exhaustion he felt earlier seems to melt away, slowly taking away his anxiety with each mouthful of tea and each line of text he writes. I wandered until I found you. Nestled in the darkness, it’s blanket wrapped about my legs. I couldn’t escape. You were my light, my flower, my white peony blooming to blow away the black.

Time seems to slip by more quickly now. He breezes through three pages of lyrics, possible verses, until he finally settles on a chorus he likes the most. He types it up into a new document on the computer and sifts through each collection of verses for the best, and adds those in as well. He’ll work on the melody tomorrow; it’s enough that the words finally decided to cooperate. Yoongi sighs and leans back in his chair once more, relaxing his back into the mesh and breathing softly between his lips. His eyes are so much heavier now and he’s surprised when he notices the cup of tea empty. He didn’t remember when he had finished it, but it had given him the calm and warmth to continue.

“I’m finished, Jimin. Go sleep now.” Yoongi mumbles, turning to tell off Jimin for wasting so much time waiting on him.

But Jimin isn’t standing and staring at him any longer. Propped against the base of the wall, seated with his head dipped forward, eyes shut delicately, and his breathing silent and steady like the rise and fall of his chest, Jimin is asleep. Butterscotch-coloured tassels of hair hang over his eyes like a curtain of sunflowers. His tiny hands are fisted slightly and tucked close into the crooks of each opposite arm.

Yoongi sighs softly. _Oh Jimin…_ he peeps at the clock - _12:53pm_ \- once more before standing and stretching for the first time since that morning.

“Come on, Chim.” Yoongi bends down and pokes Jimin's arm. He doesn’t want to wake him completely, but he can’t just carry the kid out. Yoongi's tired himself as it is and he doesn’t want to risk dropping Jimin.

Jimin's eyes crack open sleepily, yawning and squealing just a baby koala. “Hyung?”

“Come.” Yoongi says gently. “Let’s go sleep now.”

Jimin whines, drawing away from Yoongi and closing his eyes again.

“Jimin.”

He’s asleep again; so deeply now, Yoongi's not sure if he should even attempt to wake him. That would only disrupt his sleeping schedule, so there’s no use. Yoongi peeps out the door of his studio. He doesn’t see anyone immediately but he does hear the slight thump here and there from another room farther away in the apartment, most likely Hoseok still awake dancing or Namjoon looking for a midnight snack. Yoongi returns to his studio with a pillow and blanket he’s snatched from his bedroom next door.

Being extra gentle, careful not to wake Jimin, Yoongi tucks the cotton pillow between the wall and Jimin's head and covers him with the blanket, picking off a little ball of white fuzz that clung to it on Jimin's shoulder. He settles next to Jimin on the floor and rests his head on Jimin’s shoulder, closing his eyes and allowing himself to succumb to his exhaustion, his limbs drooping heavily and his mind finally fuzzing over softly. It’ll only be few more hours until morning. He’ll be sure to wake first, maybe prepare some breakfast or tea.

 _Yes, tea…_ Yoongi yawns. _That sounds nice. White peony tea._

**Author's Note:**

> please review! <3


End file.
